Upon A Melancholy Shore
by Laugh-I-Nearly-Died
Summary: [A.K.A 'The First Hunger Games' SYOT] The fall of Thirteen was a tragic event, but what's done is done. There are bigger, much worse things to worry about now-The Punishment. The Capital is showing its wrath, ready to serve and protect what is left of True Panem, but what, or who, exactly are they fighting? More importantly, are they really the good guys?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello, and welcome to 'Upon a Melancholy Shore'. If you are one of my veteran readers, you probably know that this is the now official home of my Hunger Games SYOT.

If you'd like to know more about the characters here and to come, you can check out the starting thread/story located here:

** (slash) s (slash) 7942075 (slash) 1 (slash) First-Hunger-Games**

****Be sure to add in the symbols, and delete any spaces.

Furthermore, below is posted the first writings that I made in the SYOT post. I will attempt to update as frequently as possible. Thank you for reading.

-DDJ

_Every where at this moment, the citizens of Panem watch. Eyes are trained to the strange blonde lady from the Capitol. 'What was her name again?' 'Ellie? Elles? Ellence! That's it!'_

_"Hello everyone!" She says in a cheerful voice. "My name is Ellence Trinket, and I'm here to announce a very special event."_

_Her blonde hair keeps falling into her face, and without a doubt, it's fake. A wig. Some see her as ridiculous, but those in the most inner districts find her stunningly beautiful. They want to be her!_

_At the silence she has gathered, she speaks again; "Citizens of Panem, I now announce to you all...**THE HUNGER GAMES~! **A child from each District will be submitted, by random. Now, The Hunger Games isn't anything to be afraid of! You can keep a close eye on your children from the local televisions... if you have one that is! It's a competition, of sorts, and the winner will have a most glamorous prize!"_

_Ellence smiles her sickening grin to viewers everywhere. Excitement rages in the inner Districts, but fear wells in the pits of the stomachs of others. They know how sick the Capitol can be. They know what happened to 13. And although others are ignorant, they know they could be next._

_"So, within the next week, I will be attending to each and every one of your Districts to select your...contestants. But that's only half the fun. I'll be bringing two, TWO, special contestants from District Thirteen! I can't wait to see you all! And may the odds be ever in your favor!"_

_With a click, the televisions turned off, and a notice went out to tell the citizens to return to their work._

_~First Chapter~_

The District had been gathered. The words had been spoken. The fear was as evident as the threat that held above us all. Today, no one was safe. Today, the shiny Capital train would pull out of the station claiming two of our own. They would meet an unnamed, but most certainly horrible punishment and it would all be because of District 13. Had a revolution been necessary? At least they had tried. But now, twenty-four young men and women sat in vacant rooms, awaiting their doom.

In present time, I closed my eyes as a gloved hand reached into a shining, omniscient bowl. I was trying to look brave for the girl's group, standing not so far away. I knew most of them were freaking out on the inside, but being strong for them would help. In fact, if enough people were strong enough, this situation wouldn't have happened in the first place. Maybe being strong would prevent such situations in the future. Maybe District 12 should have joined the revolution.

Today was a day that would go down in history- we were all required to dress our best after all. Being a part of District 12, there wasn't much to change. Women and girls wore their mother's fine dresses. They were nothing special, just elegant fabric sewn together. Men and boys were dressed in black suits- all patched and faded hand-me-downs. This included me as well. My father's suit was a bit loose on me, but it worked. Not many families had enough money to provide for fancy clothing.

Not many people had families.

I bit my tongue to wash away bad thoughts, and paid attention to the shiny and pristine lady on the stage. Her name was Ellence Trinket, or something along those lines. I really couldn't find any compassion for her, so I didn't remember her name very well. Quite honestly, the lady looked ridiculous. A blue wig sat askew atop her head. Largely spread, colorful makeup lined every visible contour of skin on her body. Who _would_ care, though, for the ridiculous woman that was destroying families by calling out a name.

"Ladies first." She announced, with a wink.

It was gross, how she flaunted those words. They were almost like a catch-phrase to her. How many times had I heard them through the giant Capital television, brought to the town square especially for the events? How many other sentences had she said that made me want to puke?

"_**Ladies first…"**_

"_**What a handsome young man!"**_

"_**May the odds be **_**ever**_** in your favor…"**_

In a nervous rush, I pulled my shoulder length white hair into a pony tail. The habit had followed for the longest time, but it described me in the most. Always caring about other people, I was. Never enough time to stop and think about myself. The anticipation of the drawing was nerve racking- everywhere I looked I saw a target for the Capital. Would it be someone I know? Would the punishment be as horrible as I've heard the Capital to unleash?

When I feared that I was about to faint from the suspense of it all, Ellence's hand finally produced a slip of paper from the bowl. Fear rose in my throat. What young woman or little girl would be ripped from her life? What if it was a younger girl? She would never again be tucked into bed by her mother. She would never hear her father call for his 'princess'. Her innocence would be destroyed. I prayed, hoping that whoever it was would be strong enough to handle whatever the Capital would throw.

"I have our winner." She declared, her sickeningly sweet voice ringing out over the crowd. I had to stop myself from covering my ears. "Her name… is Foxglove Silverrod! Would Foxglove like to join us on the stage?"

Across the crowd, a girl rolled her eyes. She walked toward the stage, her short white dress lowing with the wind. She was pretty, a bit younger than me I recalled. The age difference was about a year, in fact. She was fifteen. It was sad to watch her go, for I knew her foster family would take the loss hard. After her parents' untimely death, she had been left to fend for herself. That's when the Trellium family took her in.

Foxglove, the ever sarcastic girl I had often noticed in town and in class, marched onto the stage with venom. It would've been easy to laugh at her antics, had it not been for the Capital's snoot awaiting that sort of uprising.

Ellence congratulated Foxglove, shaking her hand in the fake manner that any District Twelve-er could spot. As soon as Foxglove had taken her seat further back on the stage, Ellence picked up where she had left off.

"There we go, our female tribute! Moving on, then! We still need our handsome male to take the stage!"

Again, fear gripped the audience. Maybe it was something in my eye, but I could've sworn I saw a flicker in Fox's façade. Ellence's fingers danced within the second bowl, as if in a taunt. 'Look at me..' They motioned. 'Whose little boy will the Capital steal away tonight?'

A slip, another small sheet of white paper, was pulled out for the country to see. She opened, smiling at the words written below. Was it me? Was it someone I know? The event ran in slow motion, my fate waiting to be determined. Ellence Trinket's overly made up lips formed the words, my mind doing a double take just to make sure I heard them correctly.

"James Heart." She announced. "Congratulations, James. Will you come to the stage?"

A little boy, it seemed, walked to the stage. He whimpered, a small sound that extended to every dead silent District Twelve-er. He couldn't have been younger than twelve, in accordance to the Capital's statement, but he just looked so scared. Ellence's look of excitement was just as repulsing, if not more, than her entire being. She beckoned James onto the stage, putting an arm around him as he shook.

"Now don't be afraid, James! You're going to be in a contest! Now how old are you, young man?" She spoke to him, the sound of her voice crackling through the loudspeakers that surrounded the area.

James' voice was weak, so shaky that you almost wouldn't be able to hear it.

"Tw-twelve.." He stuttered.

"Well, that's it folks. Foxglove Silverrod and James Heart! Two brave souls, about to take on-"

"No!"

The shout came from the crowd. The tension in the air was so strong, and I was so livid that I wasn't even sure if any of it was real anymore. The horrible realization had come with the stares, with the look of fear on James' face. I had been the one to shout. All eyes were trained on me, not a sound could be heard.

Eventually, Ellence had gained some composure. She cleared her throat, making a show for what she was about to say.

"No? Well is that a volunteer to take Mr. Heart's place?" She asked, glances everywhere switching from her to myself.

Studying closely, I saw that there was fear in Ellence's very own eyes. It dawned on me then that she didn't know what she was doing. She was merely playing on, as if to protect the Capital's appearance. What were they without the presence of the fear of the people?

I saw straight through her. It was that very spark that told me what I was to do next. It would be for the District's sake, for James' sake, for my own God forsaken sake. I stepped forward, bringing with me all of the courage that I could muster. I made my way to the stage as steadily as I could. When I had reached the brim of the stage, I mustered up my voice, and I spoke.

"Yes." I said, loud and clearly. My voice rang powerfully throughout the silence. Today history had been made. "I would like to volunteer as a tribute, in the place of James Heart."

The silence prevailed, as I had managed to do something that the millions of people in our nation could not- I had rebelled. Jaws dropped, people stepped closer to me. Someone's hand squeezed my own, giving me the comfort that I hadn't realized would be so helpful before.

Ellence Trinket's own gloved hand fell from James' shoulder. The boy took his chance to run. He was a quick one, disappearing from the stage as quickly as possible. He ran to me, dropping something in my pocket and whispering a quick thank you.

Gathering together whatever was left inside of her soulless mind, Ellence spoke once more.

"Well, then come on up, and tell us your name!" She began to ramble. "What a handsome- what a… a BRAVE inspiration for us all! A volunteer people, a volunteer! Now, um… wh- what is your name?"

I clambered onto the stage, turning to the people, _my_ people.

"Fale Reynolds." I called out to them. "My name is Fale Reynolds."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This chapter is really short, sorry. I was kinda brain dead on how to close it. So this is what you guys get. Hopefully the next one will be longer, better, and realeased a lo**

* * *

Loneliness is a horrible thing, yet it happens to the best of us. We find ourselves alone in times of need, in times of sorrow, in times of fear. Mostly though, we find ourselves alone when we are confused. The town hall wasn't big, wasn't fancy, or anything of the sort. Rumor had it that the hall had once been a farm house. The building was falling apart, made of rotting wood and cement pillars. There were cracks in the wall, the musky old smell of mold hidden in each of its compartments. Usually saved for special occasions like the 'Pride of Panem' festival (where the president makes an appearance on the out of place screen hanging on the outer back wall), it made for an amateur holding cell.

Needless to say, I was lonely. I was trapped in a 'room', if it can be called that. Long, thin pieces of plywood were strung to the ceiling, sectioning the rooms off. Through these thin walls, I could hear Foxglove, the selected girl from my tribute, talking to another girl. Their voices were hushed and scarce, speaking only momentarily, and for short amounts of time. I assumed they were either family, or close to it, as this time was supposed to be used to say goodbyes. At least, that's what Ellence had said, before enclosing me between the plywood walls.

I have no family anymore, and it is not a secret. I am 'the street kid', the one that takes scraps from the streets, eats stray animal meet, sleeps on the steps of the ruins of what once was called a 'monastery'. The old stories all say that they were places of hope and belief, of rebellion. When the Capital found that the 'monasteries' were outlandish places, they burned most of them. My home, though, had lucky marble steps that were mine for the taking. It is why I know that I belong to the punishment the capital has given- in fact; I don't think I could have found a better future. No one will miss me when I am gone, and there is no place left for me to carry on.

The train was large. It was the best word to use, to describe the long metal boxes, all coming together to form the extravagant rooms on the inside. I'd like to say that I'm pretty knowledgeable in the engineering compartment, though I'm mediocre, amateur, compared to someone from District Six. They spend their entire lives watching things move, travel forward, and they're stuck in the same place. It sounds like a sad life, but I supposed it comes with a certain satisfaction, knowing that they're the ones that made it move in the first place. I cannot bring myself to dwell on what the tributes from District Six, the district of transportation, must feel like as they sit on one of their big trains.

A long time ago, I came across a scrap of paper in the woods. There were words, scrawled across it in print. I recalled a story when I found it, one of the great 'Book Burning of Panem'. Millions of volumes, the story goes, were loaded onto carts, and brought into the depth of the outskirts of Panem. I'd have imagined that it was there, or near, the spot in the woods. I had my suspicions about this scrap. Its words were almost foreign. They held a tone that I wasn't familiar with, one I had not experienced in school books. It seemed to be alive, spewing words from the soul, rather than the hand.

'_Long, sleek metal, melted together to form long cars. They were skinny and small, but gradually and in time, the designs would grow. Today is the day that these cars would be made to carry passengers, and not objects. Today is a step in time. Today is reality, reality the future; The future is today.'_

No one is supposed to leave the town, cinder blocked and made out of hard labor. There are rumors that large fences, or maybe walls, will soon enclose District Twelve. After the horrible disaster of what happened in Thirteen, I see no reason for the Capitol to not pull through. It would bring sadness to the District, as most of the families here hunt game in the woods. No one would suspect that something like the book burning had occurred here- we were always District Twelve, the low class society that never made anything but coal and a background noise.

Long story short, we went anyway.

* * *

I sit in my compartment room, reflecting on the District, its past and its future. My place on this train is a well-sized bunker, complete with a bed and a phone. Upon the tour, I was told that I could pick up the phone, and a servant would deliver anything I so desired to have. As the red-haired woman, who wore too much blue lipstick over a sinister smile, left me to myself, I briefly wondered if I could order my freedom. What a ridiculous thing to wish for, I should be spending my thoughts on realistic goals, like

_Surviving_.

Dinner that night was a feast, and I wanted to eat alone. Either I wasn't fond of the train-men, or everyone that wasn't from District Twelve was just too different for my liking. It isn't shocking that Ellence Trinket held her own special category in my mind. She was the one thing stood in the way of a peaceful dinner. She appeared in my room, mere minutes after I sent away the servant. I suppose that I could've been nicer to the girl, as she was only doing her job, but the fact that I provided Ellence a good amount of trouble was enough to wash away the guilt.

She knocked on the door, pushing it open when I refused to answer. When she walked into my room, she had her hands over her eyes, and she staggered slightly as her heel caught on the carpeted floor.

"Fale?" She cooed. "You are decent, right?" she asked.

I almost snorted, rolling my eyes at her absurdity.

"You'll just have to find that out for yourself now, won't you." I spat, venom intermingling with my words.

She peaked through her fingers, quickly, removing her hands from her eyes when she saw that I was fully clothed.

"Um, hello, Fale." Ellence greets, a nervous look crossing her face. "I'm here to talk about our… dinner arrangements. You know that dinner is to be served to your units, and, well.." She stops talking, picking at the edge of what appears to be a very pink (and probably very _expensive_) blouse.

"Yes, I am aware." I retort, my tone a lot calmer now that I feel in control.

"Then…" she tosses her hands up in the air. "For goodness' sake, why aren't you there! This is supposed to be a time of wonder, and exploration! You can't just stay locked up in your room forever!"

I shrug, a look so casual on my face I'm surprised Ellence didn't fall to her knees and beg. Instead she quivered, blushed, and brought her arms back to her sides. She looked uncomfortable in her own skin, and I'm fairly certain it had something to do with the way I was staring her down. She needed to learn, though, that I play by my own rules. I'll only ever work to meet my own standards. I'll push as hard as I have to, to make that known.

She shifts, and diverts her eyes. Her face matches her ensemble, which I find completely hilarious. Somewhere deep within, I acknowledge that I am a horrible person. I'll think on it later, maybe in my last moments of life, maybe before I fall asleep in a Capitol-citizen worthy bed, girls with long hair and pretty eyes to keep me company.

Deciding not to push my luck any further, I shove past the ridiculously _pink_ woman, and head down the train's long corridor. Dinner would be good, no matter my mood, and I just might be able to pick up a good tip or hint. You'd be surprised on what you could learn about a person at the dinner table.

* * *

_ **Today is a step in time. Today is reality, reality the future; The future is today.**_


End file.
